


Little Girl Lost

by Tammaiya



Category: X -エックス- | X/1999
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-22
Updated: 2005-01-22
Packaged: 2018-08-15 12:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8056501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tammaiya/pseuds/Tammaiya
Summary: Karen wonders if Arashi is losing who she is to what she symbolises.





	Little Girl Lost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littledust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledust/gifts).



Little girl lost, that was what Arashi was. So mature, with her serious dark eyes and her dead straight hair, so distant and unemotional and adult that Karen sometimes forgot she was still only a teenager. She was a priestess first and always foremost; being a girl, being a teenager, both came only second to her responsibility. She lived as a symbol.  
  
Karen thought that maybe she understood that.  
  
Arashi was so good at being what she was rather than who she was that sometimes it seemed like they were one and the same. It wasn't until the day when Karen first saw Arashi sitting alone in her room, expression forlorn in a sea of sterility, that it struck her that the appearance was not always the reality.  
  
Arashi was a teenage girl caught up in something way above her head with nothing for her to cling to; a person as well as a symbol, and Karen wondered how long it would take for the mask to crack.  
  
It worried her. Arashi was sweet and vulnerable where she tried to make herself seem cold and untouchable. In some ways, she reminded Karen of herself. Only in some ways, mind you- different religions, and different extremes when it came to relationships.  
  
The essence of pretending strength where you had only frailty, however… that, Karen could certainly identify with.  
  
After the first time, Karen started paying closer attention. She passed Arashi's bedroom on the way to her own; sometimes, Arashi would forget to close it the whole way, leaving just a tiny crack for Karen to peek through and check she was still okay.  
  
It was hard to tell. On the days when Arashi thought no one would look for her, when Sorata was not there to vie for her attention, she would often simply sit on the edge of her neatly made bed in her pristine room and stare blankly out the window. She looked as though she were losing herself in her own mind, losing it in a room with no personality because humility was a virtue but the stale monotony was dragging her down. Karen was often tempted to go in, ask Arashi if she'd like to talk or maybe go out for coffee, but she had never managed to find the nerve.  
  
This time when she looked, though, she frowned; Arashi wore the same expression and was as still as a statue, back perfectly straight and neck arched gracefully so her head turned to the window, but there was the telltale sparkle of wetness on her cheeks to betray the difference.  
  
This time, Karen decided, this time it would be almost irresponsible of her to leave Arashi be. It would certainly be betraying her as a friend, if nothing else, so without further hesitation she pushed the door open and closed it behind her softly, leaning back against it.  
  
Arashi's head turned with startled grace to look at her visitor, shock in her eyes at being caught when she thought she was safe to be alone.  
  
"Arashi-san," Karen said gently, "Are you okay?"  
  
"Please don't worry." Arashi's voice was quiet, toneless, mask sliding silently back into place and eyes hardening slightly. "I'm perfectly fine. The solitude helps me centre myself."  
  
Maybe Arashi honestly thought it did, but her idea of being centred was being able to keep up the façade of coldness. Personally, Karen felt that what she was really doing was drowning her humanity as a sacrifice to her shell.  
  
"Did you want me to leave? I didn't mean to intrude."  
  
Arashi desperately wanted to say yes, Karen knew, but she was too polite for such an abrupt dismissal.  
  
"I don't mind," she said instead, so Karen crossed the floor to join her sitting on the edge of the bed. Arashi blinked, not expecting Karen to come so close-- their thighs were brushing, just lightly-- and Karen sighed, taking one of Arashi's hands, folded so neatly in her own lap, into both of her own.  
  
Arashi didn't object and didn't pull her hand back, simply watching with wary eyes to see what Karen intended to do next. Karen didn't, or at least not immediately. She sat there looking into Arashi's eyes as if searching for some kind of clue, causing Arashi's cheeks to tint a faint pink.  
  
"Karen-san?"  
  
"You don't always have to be the strong one," Karen said finally, an apparent non-sequiter.   
  
Arashi tilted her head in confusion.  
  
"Sometimes," Karen continued, lifting one hand to brush the heavy curtain of straight black hair from Arashi's face and rest at the back of the girl's neck, "you have to let other people be strong for you. How can you expect to save the rest of humanity when you don't embrace your own, after all?"  
  
Wise advice. Karen wondered if she was following it herself; she did try, which had to count for something. Besides, even if she were to be hypocritical insofar as the allowing other people to be your strength went, it was still good advice.  
  
There was a perfect frozen second stretched to a minute, time pausing for that one complete instant while the two women stared at each other and hardly daring even to breathe.  
  
"I don't understand," Arashi said, her voice almost a whisper but still shattering the moment into a thousand glittering shards of broken silence.  
  
Karen slid her hand up, letting the silky strands of Arashi's hair flow through her fingers like cool black water. "It's okay to cry," she said. "None of us would hold it against you. No one can be strong forever, especially not with what we're all going through now. If you don't let it out, you'll only hurt yourself more."  
  
Arashi's free hand clenched helplessly in her skirt. "How…" she started, faltering and trailing off when she realised how uncertain and shaky her voice sounded. "How can I?"  
  
It was only then, seeing Arashi's vulnerable expression and hearing her voice on the verge of breaking, that Karen really remembered how young the teenager was compared to her. Was this the right thing to do? she asked herself, but right and wrong were subjective and if it were a question of what was morally right and what Arashi needed then that was a judgement Karen could make confidently.  
  
Holding Arashi still with the hand still at her nape, Karen leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to Arashi's lips, slow and comforting. Arashi's mouth opened hesitantly under her own; she tasted of salt from her tears, and Karen moved both hands to cup the girl's face in a soothing gesture.  
  
When Karen pulled away, only a few inches and Arashi's breath was still trembling against her skin like a butterfly, Arashi's eyes were wide and her pupils were dilated with a chaotic mix of different emotions.  
  
"Karen-san," she said, voice hitching, "why did you…"  
  
"Shhh," Karen murmured, hand covering Arashi's questions lightly. "Sometimes, you need to entrust your heart to someone else so it doesn't destroy itself. Your emotions are a gift, Arashi-san; the most precious gift you can give to those who you care about."  
  
Arashi blinked fiercely, tears welling in her eyes. "I…"  
  
"I won't leave you," Karen said. "Cry, Arashi."  
  
The honorific was dropped and Arashi's resistance crumbled with it. Karen's arms went around Arashi as she cried into Karen's shoulder, rocking her slightly like a mother would their child.  
  
Arashi cried an ocean of pain that had been drowning her from the inside, a flood of tears that carried the sorrow away and lightened her heart. Like all torrential rains do, though, eventually her tears subsided, leaving her to lie exhausted in the circle of Karen's arms. It was important to remember, however, that the sun always comes out when the rain is over.  
  
"It's okay," Arashi said, and smiled.


End file.
